


At Home with Candidate Donna Moss-Lyman

by orphan_account



Series: piece by piece, rubble to rubble [10]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Gen, News Media, POV Outsider, Post-Canon, donnas a badass and i love her and that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23486308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Three months before Election Day 2020, New York Magazine's Gretchen Thomas catches up with Donna Moss-Lyman, the Congressional Candidate for Maryland's 8th district, in her Kensington home.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Donna Moss
Series: piece by piece, rubble to rubble [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644367
Comments: 23
Kudos: 139





	At Home with Candidate Donna Moss-Lyman

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i am posting so much bc i have anxiety and this is easier than reading the news. hope everyone is staying safe!
> 
> note: this is part of my piece by piece, rubble to rubble series, where I go rogue at the very beginning of season six and then essentially sift through canon for the scraps I like and ignore the rest. So, here, Donna and Josh have been together since Gaza, Toby never takes the rap for the space shuttle cus i hate what they did to my boy, AND he and Andy get remarried. That is all :)

_This article was printed originally in the August 2020 Edition of New York Magazine, and is appearing here with permission._

By Gretchen Thomas

* * *

When Donna Moss-Lyman opens the door to her Kensington home, she’s got flour on her cheek and a shy toddler hanging off her hip. She smiles brightly at me.

“Hi! Welcome, come in, come in!” She ushers me into the house and gets me seated in the kitchen, offering me something to drink, taking my coat. She asks me how the drive was, commiserates about traffic on Connecticut, and makes me a cup of coffee, all the while hanging on to the toddler and putting cookies on a sheet pan. 

She’s warm, welcoming, and perfectly unassuming at first glance. I could easily peg her for head of the PTA. 

Except she’s a decorated veteran of the West Wing, having served under two administrations, the recent proud recipient of a master’s degree in Political Science from Georgetown, married to a man almost annually named in Politico as “The Most Influential Man in Washington” and she’s running for Congress. 

Moss announced her bid about four months ago, appearing on stage with Representative Sam Seaborn and then Representative Andrea Wyatt to discuss the need for strong, informed, empathetic candidates, especially in these times, and has been polling strongly against Republican Chuck Ambrose. But today’s meeting is not political- it’s personal. I’m here to do a profile of Ms. Moss’ home life. 

Moss tries to place the curly-haired toddler in a high chair, but she whines and clings onto her, so Moss gives in and sits at the kitchen table with me, settling her on her lap. 

“This is Joanie!” Moss introduces me. “How old are you, baby?”

Joanie ducks her head and refuses to make eye contact with me, but holds up two fingers instead. 

“Two! Good job!” Moss cheers. Joanie grins at her mother and then buries her head in her shoulder. 

“Sorry, she’s a little shy. Takes after her dad that way.” Moss says as she takes a sip of her own coffee. 

Josh Lyman is known as many things around DC, not all of them savory, but none of them are “shy”. Moss must sense my confusion, because she laughs and adds:

“Maybe not now, but I have it on good authority from my mother-in-law that Josh refused to speak in front of strangers until he was four, so Joanie may decide to follow suit.” 

  
“Ah,” I say. “That makes more sense.” 

Joanie wriggles out of her mother’s lap and reaches for her hand, clearly wanting to lead her somewhere, so Moss excuses herself, and I use the opportunity to take in this home. 

It’s unassuming, quiet, not nearly as ornate as I expected it to be; clearly lived in- chemistry homework, half-finished cups of coffee, campaign schedules, and messy notes line the table we’re sitting at. It’s bright and spacious, large bookshelves with everything from picture books to massive law tomes line the walls of the living room, and there're art pieces I’m not sure aren’t authentic on the walls. Several _Moss for Congress_ stickers are stuck to the window next to me, just at the eye level of a toddler. It’s nice, but not out of place in Kensington, home of half of DC’s lawyers and a third of their lobbyists. So what really catches my eye is not the decor- it’s the pictures. Up on the fridge, next to a family photo of Moss, Lyman, and their kids, clearly at Moss’ graduation, is a handwritten note on thick stationary, signed, _love, Jed and Abbey._

Like, you know President Jed Bartlet? And his wife, First Lady Abbey Bartlet? 

That’s not the only not-so subtle reference to how very well-connected this family is; A large photo hangs on the wall behind me in a gallery of school pictures, wedding portraits, of Moss and Lyman, surrounded by some of the most recognizable people in the country. Some notable names include CJ Cregg, former Press Secretary and Chief of Staff in the Bartlet Administration and current head of the Hollis Foundation, along with her husband, Danny Concannon, who recently won his second Pulitzer Prize for an exposè on the failures of the school system in Orange County in preventing student suicides. Sam Seaborn, another West Wing veteran, who’s currently campaigning for his fourth term as a California Congressman is present, along with his former writing partner, Toby Ziegler and his wife Senator Andrea Wyatt, with their two kids between them. 

The picture isn’t formal- it’s clearly a barbecue of some kind, because Lyman is wielding a spatula and wearing an apron embroidered _Kiss the Chef!_ , and Moss, clearly pregnant, is kissing his cheek. 

“Sorry about that!” Moss comes back in, smiling brightly, and places Joanie on the floor with some books to distract her. “Joanie wanted to get a few books, and we have a strict rule about reading in this house, so I had to go get it.” 

“Sounds like a good rule! If you don’t mind me asking- I wasn’t fully aware you had a personal relationship with Senator Wyatt.” 

“Oh, Andy?” Moss glances up the picture. “Of course. I’ve known her for years. Toby Ziegler is a very close family friend. Andy encouraged me to run in the first place.” 

“Right, since you’d be taking her old spot.” 

“Yes, though not from her!” Moss laughs. “I’m not sure this household would be able to survive that campaign. My kids would be pretty torn between supporting their mom and betraying their uncle’s trust. Though-“ Moss stops to think, and puts a hand on her chin. “I do control their internet access and ability to hang out with their friends. I guess I could hang that over their heads.” 

She’s not referring to Joanie, who is half-babbling in an authoritative tone that makes me think she’s mimicking her parents reading to her, but to her two older children- Noah, 13, and Hannah, 11, who have several pictures apiece on the wall. Noah, with dirty-blonde hair and dimples, looks like the perfect mix of his parents, while Hannah could be a carbon-copy of her father, albeit with longer hair and less wrinkles. 

“The older kids, they’re politically active?” 

“I think ‘politically aware’ is maybe a better way to put it. Not sure they could grow up in this household and not be!” Moss nods towards the living room, where CNN is playing on mute. “I don’t think we ever have that TV off. Noah and Hannah, they’ve been listening to me and their dad argue about issues and attending rallies and conventions and speeches since before they could talk.” 

“That must have been quite a childhood for them.” 

“Oh yes- we had Noah during the first term, and I’ve got the cutest picture of Noah and President Santos in the Oval Office. It’s one of those _'embarrass them with it at their wedding'_ pictures, you know?” 

“I’m sure. I know this article is supposed to be a personal profile, but do you mind if I ask you questions of a political nature?” I ask. Moss brightens visibly. 

“Absolutely not. Shoot.” 

“Well, first of all, why did you decide to run for Congress?” 

“Ah- that’s a good question, and I’ll even do you one better than my stump speech.” Moss leans back in her seat and grabs her coffee again. “I have to tell you, it started with my husband. The day President Santos left office, we got back home, and we sat on the couch, and Josh turned to me, and he said “what’s next?” And honestly, I wasn’t so sure. We’d just completed sixteen years in the West Wing, which is unprecedented, really. Where do you go from there? 

It took us a while to figure it out. Josh can only stay still for about 30 seconds, so he was consulting and writing a book and you know, doing things men do when they feel like they’re not useful, and I decided to get my degree.” 

“I’m sorry- your degree?”

Moss laughs again. 

“I never finished my undergrad. I came on to the Bartlet Campaign with no experience and knowing no one, and somehow conned my way into a full-time job.” 

“I’m not sure you can con your way into a Chief of Staff position.”

“No, I’ve been told that.” Moss says thoughtfully, like she still isn’t sure she was qualified for the position. “But I had spent so many years with people who had these insane educations, and it’s hard to not compare. So, I went back to school. I still had my credits from however many years back, so I was able to finish my degree in English and Communications, and got my Master’s in Political Science.” 

“All that in under 4 years.” 

Moss shrugs. 

“I didn’t have to do any internships or anything- they thought my experience was more than enough- and frankly, after the assignments I pulled with Josh, writing my thesis was only a little step up. Anyways, by the time I was graduating, Andy told me she was resigning in order to run for the Senate seat that had opened up, and we had been living in Kensington long enough at that point- we had Hannah and Joanie by then- Joanie was our little surprise baby- so we had to move out of DC- to qualify for residency. And really, private sector won't work for me- there's absolutely nothing like public service, getting the ability to serve your country. So, I thought, you know what, I know this. I understand this. This area of Maryland is one of the most gerrymandered in the country, did you know that? I am campaigning to represent zip codes from Potomac to Mt. Airy. Have you ever heard something so ridiculous?” 

“I have, yes- this is actually my district.”

“Ah! Well I hope I can convince you to vote for me.” Moss says. “Anyways, I knew the area inside and out, I knew the issues, and so, I decided to run.”

“And what are the major issues your campaign has been focusing on?” 

“Education equity, for one. Students at B-CC or Richard Montgomery have access to programs and resources Paint Branch doesn’t even dream of. Secondly, we’re focusing on expanding funding for no-cost clinics and family planning. Montgomery County has the highest percentage of children living under the poverty line in the state, and I intend to help.” 

Moss sits up straighter as she tells me that, and she says it firmly, and I have no trouble seeing her at a podium. 

“How’s the campaign been going so far?” 

“Oh, you know- not so terribly. President Bartlet was gracious enough to come speak at an event last week, and I’ve got a debate in a few weeks as well. Today’s actually my day off.” She laughs. “The only one I was going to have for a while, so I’m baking cookies for Hannah’s Girl Scout troop and, well, doing this interview.” 

“Well, then, I appreciate it all the more.” 

“You’re more than welcome. It’s actually easier, being the candidate.” 

“Really?” 

Joanie finishes her book, and reaches for her mother, so Moss picks her back up. “I’ve worked on four Presidential campaigns, and helped out on a few Congressional as well. The hours you’d pull were absolutely ridiculous. I remember, the first campaign, I’d regularly work 18-20 hours a day, sleep a couple hours, and then get back up and do it all over again. The things you can do when you’re twenty-four and invincible, right? But, you know, it’s been a long time, and some things have happened since then.” 

“Things have happened” is a very neutral way to refer to the tragedy Moss has experienced. No one could soon forget the attempted assassination of President Bartlet’s then body man and now son-in-law, Charlie Young, in which President Bartlet was hit, and Lyman, who at the time was Moss’ boss, was gravely injured. For a dark period on cable news, he was reported to have not survived. 

Of course, this was nearly surpassed when, three years later, Moss was the sole survivor of a car bomb in Gaza which took the lives of Admiral Percy Fitzwallace and Congressmen DeSantos and Korb. 

Moss has only spoken publicly about the events which caused the scarring on her forehead once, when she and Lyman spoke out strongly in favor of the Mental Healthcare funding bill last month. It made national news- two very visible politicos, honestly discussing their diagnoses of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, the importance of the ATVA, and the need for increased mental healthcare. 

I’m about to ask a follow-up question, wanting to perhaps probe a little farther into that statement, when the front door slams, and someone yells “HELLO?” 

Hannah Lyman skids into the kitchen a few seconds later, dark curls falling out of a braid, an old _Santos-McGarry_ sweatshirt over her school uniform, and stops short of the fridge when she sees us sitting at the table. 

“Hello,” Hannah repeats, and gives me a polite smile, before she dumps her backpack on the ground and opens the fridge. 

“Hannah,” Moss has a long-suffering tone in her voice. “Can you introduce yourself, please?” 

Hannah turns back around, a chocolate milk carton firmly in her grasp, and comes over to the table, sticking out her hand. 

“I’m Hannah Lyman.” She says with a confidence I most certainly didn’t have at eleven. I shake her hand and introduce myself. 

“Good to meet you.” She says somewhat somberly, though this is undercut by the fact that she slurps her chocolate milk and slams the empty carton on the table, before dropping to the floor to greet her baby sister. 

Moss gives me a silent apology, then turns towards her daughters. 

“Where’s Noah and Dad?” She asks, picking up her phone. 

“Arguing in the car.” Hannah rolls her eyes and stands up, putting Joanie on her hip.

“About…”

“The same thing they’ve been arguing about for the past month.” 

Moss mimics her daughter and rolls her eyes. 

“Noah is going to be in high school next year, and he desperately wants to attend St. John’s, but Josh is dead set on Georgetown Prep.” Moss explains. 

“And they’re arguing because-“

“Noah doesn’t want to go to an all-boy’s school.” Moss laughs. 

“Do you have a preference?” 

“I went to public school in Wisconsin K-12. My high school’s drop-out rate hit 30% my senior year.” Moss says. “They’re both good schools. I’d be happy with either.” 

The front door slams again, and two arguing voices can be heard. 

“Noah, honestly, you make it sound like prison, it’s not even that-“ That’s the extremely distinctive voice of Josh Lyman, clearly irritated. 

“You went to a co-ed high school!”

“Okay, well- that wasn’t the best decision your Bubbe ever made. Georgetown has better test scores, more AP classes, and more sports. I don’t really get why-“

“Because I don’t WANT to!” 

They’ve both appeared in the doorway by now, but haven’t yet noticed me. 

Lyman is dressed casually, a t-shirt and jeans, but otherwise looks exactly the same as the last time I saw him on _Capitol Beat-_ nearly shock-white hair, a beard, and glasses to match. He’s holding grocery bags and scowling at his oldest child, who’s already his height, half-dressed in a school uniform, shirt untucked, tie missing. 

“Hi, guys.” Moss says, and it seems to me she’s holding back a laugh. 

Lyman snaps out of it, and looks up to give me a smile. 

“Oh, hi! I forgot this was happening today.” He says. He goes to place the grocery bags on the counter, and looks pointedly at his son, who’s still standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Noah, go introduce yourself.”

Noah sighs, but does so, and I am treated to the same confidence and handshake as his younger sister. He allows his mother to kiss his cheek and then stalks out of the room, claiming “homework”. 

“Don’t forget, you have lacrosse tonight.” Moss yells after him as he stomps up the stairs. 

“I know!” 

“And you need to make sure your suit is ironed for the rally tomorrow! Mrs. Santos is coming!”

“I _know_!” 

Lyman comes over to kiss his wife in greeting, then swoops down to grab Joanie out of Hannah’s arms. Joanie squeals and wraps her arms around Lyman’s neck, and it’s quite the comparison- Josh Lyman, sitting next to his wife and stealing her coffee, bouncing his daughter on his lap, and Josh Lyman, Bartlet’s Bulldog, who beat Big Tobacco into submission during Santos’ first term and just two nights ago, was on TV viciously tearing apart the current administration’s tax plan bit by bit. 

“You’re acting as campaign manager, is that correct?” I ask him. 

“Mostly- My deputy political director does as much work as me, at this point.” Lyman says. “And you know, Donna is the easiest candidate I’ve ever had to manage.”

“Really?” Moss crosses her arms. “Just last night you told me if I didn’t learn to take your dumb superstitions seriously I was going to win zero percent of the vote and then be exiled from Maryland forever.” 

Lyman waves a hand. “That was yesterday. I’ve changed, Donna. You’re my favorite candidate of all time. Just stop jinxing things and we won’t have any more problems.” 

Moss sighs again. 

“One of these days, I’m gonna get around to firing you. Hannah, you want your father’s job?” 

Hannah’s head pops up from the couch, and she scrunches her nose suspiciously at her mother. 

“What’s in it for me?” 

“No pay, terrible hours, and you’ll have to wear a pantsuit.” 

Hannah fake-gags and drops back down the couch. 

“No, thank you. Dad, you can keep it.” She says magnanimously. 

“Oh good. Thanks Hannah. I was scared for a second there “ Lyman grins. “Do you have Girl Scouts tonight?” 

“Yes, in half an hour.”

“Are you dressed?” 

“...No.”

“Go.” 

Hannah sighs dramatically, but follows her brother up the stairs. 

“The kids seem busy!” I remark. 

Moss shrugs. 

“I think we all aren’t very prone to relaxation by nature. Hannah also plays soccer and joined the middle school debate team this year.” 

“How are they taking the campaign?” 

“It’s not too big a departure for them- just a few more public appearances, having to babysit their sister a bit more. Mostly, I think Noah wants the ability to stop wearing a tie every weekend.” Moss laughs. 

There’s a quiet lull in the conversation, in which Lyman gets up to take Joanie upstairs, and Moss gets up to put the finished cookies in a container, so I take the opportunity to pivot the conversation back to before we got interrupted. 

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, and I of course don’t believe this, but I was wondering- given your recent support for mental health legislation, if you knew of critics in DC who were claiming that your husband is at best exaggerating his diagnosis of PTSD, and at worst, faking it, and what you would say to them.” 

Moss stills, and her back straightens. She takes a deep breath, and turns back towards me, her arms crossed tightly. 

“I would tell them that My husband was shot in the chest by a member of West Virginia White Pride.” She says in a cool, neutral tone. “He spent three weeks in the trauma ICU at GW because his lung collapsed, his ribs were shattered, and his sternum was damaged. He had six procedures and an open heart surgery in that period. It took him three months to get strong enough to return to work. His lung capacity is diminished and he has chronic heart issues. His diagnosis was not faked, and those who claim it was, are obviously trying to cover up their own inability to believe that people different from them can have motives other than personal gain.

My vocal support of S. 286 has nothing to do with political gain or trying to capitalize on the...things that have happened to me or Josh, but with trying to improve the public’s awareness of the disparity in mental healthcare access across America, and I'll continue supporting it until it’s been made into law.” 

“Wow.” In the doorway, Lyman stands, with Joanie on his hip and a ball cap on his head. “Why couldn’t you have given that answer to the CNN reporter who asked you that last month?” 

Moss crosses her arms again. 

“I’ve gotten a lot better at public speaking, recently.” She defends herself. 

Lyman turns towards me. 

“I spent over a decade not talking about Rosslyn,” He says. “Trust me, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that I faked PTSD. I have to tell you, if I was faking it, I’d be spending a lot less in therapy.” His tone is easy-going, but something on his face betrays the seriousness of the issue we’re discussing. 

“Me too,” Moss adds, having clearly relaxed a little. “Josh and I decided to become more transparent after the school shooting last year. The kids were going to find out soon anyways, so it was time, and it wasn’t fair that those poor teenagers were carrying the burden. We wanted to help in any way we could.” 

Hannah then appears in a Girl Scout vest and her hair still half-undone. Moss immediately begins fussing over her, reminding her to bring back the container after the meeting tonight, and I decide quietly to take my leave, getting my coat and leaving the house that’s half stereotypical suburbia, complete with arguments about schoolwork, and half political stronghold. 

The next day, I attend her rally from the back row. She embraces Mrs. Santos with a familiarity that’s hard to fake, even in politics, and standing at the podium, with her husband beaming in the background with all three kids, I can’t help but think that even if she loses this race, this is not the last the world will be seeing of Donna Moss-Lyman. Not in the least. 

* * *

_Editor’s note: three months after this article was published, Ms. Moss won the Congressional Seat for 8th District of Maryland with 59% of the vote, and was sworn into the 118th Congress on January 20th, 2021._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> also- the idea that some people would be throwing mud at Josh for speaking up about his PTSD comes directly from Joe Quincy say something along the lines of "not for nothing, but the people i know don't believe in that" after Josh tells him he heard music when the White House was shot out. 
> 
> anyways! my tumblr is @ta1k-less. I take requests. I reblog dumb shit. I rant. hmu :)


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